That Split Second
by Taz Maniac
Summary: ::COMPLETE:: Carter tries to help Abby deal with the effects of Brian's attack. Post-ep for ASTOF, because I live in a world where it's still 2001.
1. Attack

Chapter 1

The ER was different, a quieter place than it had been when he left it. The nurses were gathered in small clusters, whispering to each other. Carter furrowed his brow. Something was wrong here.

"...Abby. Not if she didn't..." He only heard a snippet of the conversation. Abby? Something had happened to Abby?

"What happened?"

They looked up at him, confusion in their eyes. "What?" they asked in unison.

"Abby. What happened to Abby?"

"Oh, you weren't here last night." Connie shook her head. "Her neighbor beat her up. Paramedics brought her in."

"_What_? Is she alright? Where is she? Did she get checked in?"

"She wasn't hurt that badly. She went home with Doctor Lewis."

Carter shook his head. Abby had gotten hurt? She went home with Susan? How had so much happened in such a little time?

"Is she alright?" he repeated, desperate for any scrap of information. 

"Her nose was broken, and she had some bruises, but other than that she was okay."

"But she couldn't go back to her apartment because her neighbor might still be there. The cops haven't found him yet," Chuny filled him in.

Carter leaned against the counter. "Did she look okay? Was she upset or anything?"

"No, not really. She was just sort of...sitting there, not saying much."

That sounded like Abby. She probably hadn't wanted everyone to see how afraid she was. She had put on a brave face for her coworkers, and then what? Cried herself to sleep when she got to Susan's? He knew that was how she dealt with things.

He needed to talk to her, make sure she was okay. He checked his watch. It was almost noon, and he was off in fifteen minutes. He would go to Susan's.

_____________________________________________________

She wanted to get up, she really did, but her body wouldn't let her.

When Susan said it wasn't much, she wasn't joking, Abby thought. This was, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable foldout sofa she had ever slept on. 

"You hungry? I made breakfast," Susan offered, buttered toast in hand. Abby stiffly shook her head. After three attempts, she managed to dislodge herself from the sofa, and began to limp towards the kitchen table.

"How're you feeling?" Susan asked sympathetically, depositing an unwanted plate of breakfast in front of Abby.

"Like I just got hit in the face with a cast iron skillet," Abby mumbled, the unbruised side of her face resting on the table. "Have the cops called yet?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago. They said they still haven't found the guy."

Abby groaned. "So I still can't go home. Great," she said. Her shoulders sagged.

"You can stay here as long as you need to," Susan said, placing a hand on Abby's shoulder.

"Thanks, but I'm not gonna invade your house any more." And I'm not sleeping on that sofa again, she thought. "I'll just get a motel. It shouldn't take more than a day or two for the cops to find him."

"You don't have to-" She was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Be right back," she said, heading for the living room.

"Oh...Carter. Hi. What're you doing here?"

"I heard about Abby. Came to see if she was alright." He tried to look around Susan into the house. "Is she still here?"

"Yeah, she's in the kitchen. She looks like she's doing a lot better."

Looks can be deceiving, he thought, following Susan into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Abby, sitting at the table looking like in was just another normal morning. He wouldn't have thought anything was wrong if he hadn't seen how the whole left side of her face was swollen. He winced at the bruises. What kind of man did that to a woman?

"How're you feeling?" he asked, lowering himself into a chair.

I wonder how many times I'm going to be asked that today, Abby wondered. "Okay," she said, suddenly interested in the eggs and bacon Susan had brought her. Why had he come here? To see her in all her hideous, swollen glory? She turned her head, trying to hide the worst of the bruises.

"The nurses told me what happened with your neighbor. I'm really sorry."

Abby shrugged. "That's what happens when you get involved, I guess."

"Have they found the guy yet?" Abby answered with a quick shake of her head. "Will you feel safe living in that building knowing he's still on the loose?"

"Susan said I can stay with her until they find him," Abby told him, not mentioning that she had turned that offer down. She didn't need Carter offering her free room and board as well. She had had enough charity for now.

Carter jingled his car keys in his hand. "Well, want me to go with you to your apartment, so you can get some of your stuff?"

Abby forced a smile. "I'm a big girl, Carter. I think I can manage." In reality, she had no intention of so much as setting foot in her apartment for now. There would still be blood splattered on the carpet. Her blood.

She remembered how she had tried to get the paramedics to let her clean up the blood before they took her to the hospital. They thought she was altered because of a head injury. She had tried to explain to them that if she didn't clean it now, the stain would set and it would be permanent, but somehow she couldn't get her mouth to form the words. So they had loaded her onto the gurney and wheeled her past the hardening blood spot on the carpet.

She had dreaded going to County, but knew it was the closest hospital to her apartment. Then came that awful moment; everyone crowded around the gurney, wanting to know what happened. The paramedics explained while she stared at a spot just above Connie's head. She hadn't wanted to look at them, see the pity in their eyes, maybe even disgust, at her deformed face.

The moment of impact. Brian's fist connecting with her jaw. That split second when she realized she shouldn't have opened the door, right before Brian kicked it open. The blood running down her face. She could still feel in now.

"Abby?"

Abby realized that it wasn't blood, but a tear, and her face was no longer bleeding. She was sitting in Susan's kitchen, and both Susan as Carter were staring at her. She quickly wiped the tear away.

"What's wrong?" Carter asked.

"Nothing! Nothing," she said shakily, trying to get herself under control. She didn't want to fall apart in front of them. She didn't want them to see her cry. She didn't want them to pity her, just like everyone else.

Abby stood up from the table. "Well, I'm gonna go get dressed," she said, quickly fleeing the table before either of them could respond.

_____________________________________________________________

"You want to talk about it?"

Abby shook her head firmly. "There's nothing to talk about," she assured him.

Carter thought otherwise. He had seen that look on her face in Susan's kitchen. Fear. He had seen her trying to hide her tears. Why was it so important to her to keep this front up? Why didn't she understand that everyone hurt sometimes?

When they got to the building, Carter got out of the car with her. She wouldn't have asked him to, but she was glad that she didn't have to do this alone.

"You ready?" he asked, locking the doors. Abby nodded, and they headed upstairs.

The last time Abby had been on these stairs, she had been on a gurney, staring at the ceiling as it whizzed past her eyes. It was quite a different perspective.

They seemed to get to her apartment too quickly. There is was, wood splintered off the door where Brian had kicked it in. She shuddered at the sight. Why had she opened the door the second time?

She wasn't moving, so Carter took the key from her hand and unlocked the door, pushing it open.

There was the blood on the carpet. It had dried a nice, crusty brown. She remembered the sickening crunch of his fist breaking her nose, the blood flying away from her as she fell to the ground-

"Abby?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. He was staring at her again. Why was he staring at her?

"You...you just wait here. I'll go get some clothes, and I'll be right back." She headed into her bedroom before he had a chance to respond.

She grabbed a bag and started jamming clothes into it, the first clothes she could find. She just wanted to get out of here.

It wasn't fair. This was her apartment, and now she couldn't be here because of him. She was _afraid_ to be here.

But she had seen what he did to Joyce. He could do that to her too. She couldn't risk running into him again.

She was so tired. Tired of pretending, for one. She wanted to get away from the curious eyes of Carter, Susan and everyone else, and just spend some time alone. Maybe after she had a good cry, she'd feel a little better. She made sure to grab her wallet; she would need it for the motel room.

She headed for the door to her bedroom. It was cracked, just like her front door had been cracked last night.

In that split second she knew she needed to close the door-

But it was too late, there he was. His fist connected with her face. Once she was down on the ground, he kicked her in the ribs. "Tell me were she is!" he screamed. She curled into a ball to protect herself from his feet.

"Abby!"

Then it wasn't Brian by her side, but Carter, kneeling next to her. She was on the floor, curled into a ball to protect herself.

"Abby, are you okay?"

She wanted to tell him she was, but she couldn't seem to form the words. So she simply stared at him, wide eyed.

Carter seemed to know just what to do. He held her in his arms. "It's okay. He's gone. He's not gonna hurt you again, I promise."

Abby tried to shake that feeling, that momentary terror. _He wasn't here._ She didn't have anything to be afraid of. So why was she still so afraid?

A/N: As you may have guessed, this is a post-ep for ASTOF. You all have channel 4 to thank for this story. Their ceaseless airings of season 8 reruns inspired me to write this. I just saw ASTOF for the first time last night, so as usual, I jumped on the bandwagon two years after everyone else hopped off. Oh, well. Better late than never. And speaking of post-ep fics for two year old episodes, I do intend to finish On The Outside (eventually), but I've had a bit of writer's block, so it's on the shelf for a while. And yes, this is ANOTHER Abby gets hurt story from me, but this time TPTB hurt her, so I'm really not to blame. ~Taz


	2. Escape

Chapter 2

"I'm worried about her."

"She looks okay. She's been acting pretty normal around me."

"That's how she is. That's how she deals with things. Just keep an eye out for her, okay? And try to get her to talk to you."

Abby was fuming. Who did they think they were, talking about her like she was some dumb child that needed watching? Well, she didn't need Carter _or _Susan. In fact, as soon as Carter left, she was going to a motel.

"Abby?" Susan's smiling face appeared from around the corner. "Wanna watch a movie? I have HBO..." she said, dangling the remote like bait.

What would happen when Abby told Susan she was leaving? She couldn't bear to see that friendly smile replaced with a worrying frown. So she would stay, if only for a little while.

"Sure, what's on?"

______________________________________________________

There was the fear again, that twisting, paralyzing fear.

It was dark. Susan was sound asleep. She heard footsteps, coming closer...closer...what if it was him?

She had to get out of here. She threw her coat on over her pajamas, scribbled a quick note to Susan, and grabbed her bag. She couldn't stand this anymore. She _had _to get out of here.

The wind was biting cold, but she didn't mind. It threatened to freeze the tears that were streaming down her face, but that was okay. She could cry now. There was no one to see her.

________________________________________________________

Susan rolled over in the bed and checked the clock. 10:30. Ah, the joy of the evening shift. 

Sliding her feet into fuzzy slippers, Susan padded into the kitchen. Maybe she would fix breakfast again. Having a houseguest had really brought out her inner cook.

"Abby? You want breakfast?" she asked, peeking into the living room. The foldout sofa was empty. Hmm, she must be in the bathroom, Susan thought. Well, she'd make breakfast anyway. If Abby didn't want it, _she_ would eat it.

The time seemed to fly as Susan prepared her seven-course breakfast. She set the table for two, and that was when she noticed that Abby still hadn't come out of the bathroom.

She rapped on the door. "Abby? You okay in there?" Her light taps were enough to push the door open.

The bathroom was empty.

Susan's brow furrowed. Where was Abby? She walked back into the living room, and that's when she noticed the small piece of paper resting in the middle of the foldout. She picked it up, and it was just what she feared it was.

__

Susan,

Thanks for letting me stay at your place.

I really appreciate it, but I am feeling a

lot better and I don't want to be a burden.

I can get a motel room someplace until they find him.

Abby

Susan slowly crumpled the note in her hand. "Oh, Abby," she said, shaking her head.

___________________________________________________________

"What do you mean she's gone?"

"She left in the middle of the night. I woke up this morning and..." Susan shrugged. "All I had was a note."

"Did she say where she was going?"

Susan shook her head. "Just to a motel. That could be anywhere."

"We have to find her."

Susan stared at her incredulously. "Are you serious? Do you have any idea how many motels there are in Chicago?"

"You didn't see her yesterday. She was curled up in a ball on the floor in her apartment. She's trying to put on a brave face for us, but she was really traumatized, Susan. She doesn't need to be alone."

"Well, how are we supposed to find her?" Susan challenged.

"I don't know," Carter admitted. "But we have to try. We're her friends. She needs us."

"Have either of you seen Abby?"

They both turned to face Luka, who had just entered the lounge. 

"I wanted to talk to her, and Chuny told me she was staying with you," he said to Susan.

"Yeah, she _was,"_ Susan said grimly. "She just took off last night. We don't know where she went."

"Is she...alright?" Luka asked.

Carter shook his head slowly. "She's been acting strangely. She doesn't want to talk to us, but you know how Abby is when she has a problem. She always thinks she has to fix it all by herself."

Luka nodded slowly. "So what are we going to do? Do you have any idea where she went?"

"No, she just said she was going to a motel. I tried to call her, but her cell's off and she's not responding to pages."

"If she doesn't want to be found, we're not going to find her. There are hundreds of motels in Chicago, and there's no way we can knock on the door of every one." Luka thought for a moment. "Maybe she just needs some time alone."

"Maybe," Carter said, but he didn't sound convinced.

"Abby can take care of herself," Luka said. "She's been through something pretty terrible; we should just give her some time to recover. When she wants to talk to us, she will."

______________________________________________________________

Abby threw a rock into the receding water. The sun was setting; it was about time for her to get back. But what would be waiting for her at the motel but another night of TV?

She hadn't meant to go this far. But after a while, she was just on autopilot. She just kept driving and driving, and the next thing she knew she was at the ocean.

It was warm here. She didn't even need her coat. What city was she in? She wasn't quite sure. The last city sign she had seen said Chesapeake Bay, but she had driven for more than an hour after that. She didn't stop until she saw the cool, inviting waves of the beach.

What was she running from? Did she think this was the only way she could be safe from Brian? Abby wasn't sure why she had driven all the way to Virginia, she just knew that for the first time today, she felt relaxed. She wasn't looking over her shoulder. She just needed a little time to relax.

She should probably call Susan, let her know she was okay. But for now, she didn't want to. All she wanted to do was forget about Chicago and everything in it. 

Abby checked her watch. It was seven o'clock. Time to head back to the motel. She yawned as she trudged up the beach. Well, maybe that phone call could wait until tomorrow.


	3. Chase

Chapter 3

Abby was playing with her phone when it rang.

She jumped, unaccustomed to the sound. Her phone had been turned off for the entire drive out. She was shocked to discover that she had received five phone calls from Carter and Susan. Five calls in one day? She immediately felt guilty for not calling Susan yesterday.

Looking at the phone, she recognized Carter's number. Well, she might as well answer. "Hello?"

Carter almost dropped the phone, he was so surprised to hear her answer. He and Susan had been calling her all day yesterday, trying to find out where she was.

"Abby? Where are you? Are you okay?"

Abby was tongue-tied. She felt guilty; Carter's voice sounded so worried. Why hadn't she put in the note where she was going? _Because they would have tried to come here,_ she reminded herself. Then she felt indignant. She wasn't a child; she didn't have to report her actions to Carter, or anyone else!

"I'm in a motel," she said.

"Where?" Carter responded quickly. He was just relieved to find out she was okay; last night, he had had all kinds of horrible dreams: Abby falling in an open manhole, Abby drowning in quicksand, Abby being trampled by runaway horses. 

"Why do you want to know?" Abby's voice sounded almost angry. Why was _she_ mad at _him?_ He wasn't the one that had disappeared!

Carter tried to sound calm. "Because I'm worried about you. I know you were upset about everything that happened with Brian-"

"I'm fine," Abby interrupted.

"Then why are you hiding out?"

"I'm not hiding out, and I-" This time Abby interrupted herself. "I don't have to explain myself to you! If I want to _live_ in a motel, I can!"

Carter took a deep breath. He could tell Abby wasn't herself. He was worried about her. If she was acting like this to him, and he was supposedly her friend, God only knew what else she was doing. He felt a measure of desperation; he _had_ to find out where she was. It wasn't safe for her to be by herself. She had just been through something very stressful, and right now, she needed her friends, even if she didn't want to admit it.

"I know, and I'm not trying to make you explain yourself." His voice lowered. "I just want to know that you're okay."

This remark subdued her somewhat. "Well, I am. Thanks for calling," she said, eager to wrap up the conversation.

"Can I come and see you?" 

Abby smiled. Carter sounded like a little boy asking for an ice cream cone. She wondered why he wanted to see her, then realized that he must think she was still in Chicago. _He would flip if he knew were I really am,_ she thought. "Um, I just really want to be alone right now."

Carter knew that he was losing her. "Well, can I at least have a number where I can call you?" He knew that, with a number, he could probably find an address.

"You can call me on my cell. Look, I gotta go-"

"No, wait! Don't hang up." They were both silent for a moment. Abby was waiting for him to say something, but what could he say to bring her to her senses?

"Could you just tell me where you are?"

Abby deflected the question. "I'm safe. And I'll be back soon. I just need a little break."

Carter realized that he wasn't going to get anything else out of her. "Well, if you need anything you know you can call me, right? And if you can't reach me, call Susan. We're both really worried about you, and...I want you to come home."

Abby gripped the phone. She wanted to go home, too. She missed Carter. But the thought of going back to Chicago made her heart pound. As long as Brian was roaming the streets, she didn't want to be there. She _couldn't _be there. "Goodbye, Carter," she whispered into the phone.

"Take care of yourself, Abby," Carter said, wishing he was there with her, wherever she was.

With a heavy sigh, Abby hung up the phone.

____________________________________________________________________

He was behind her.

When Abby saw him, she almost swerved off the road. How had he found her? What did he want?

She knew what he wanted. Joyce. 

He was getting closer. Her heart pounded, her breathing increased. What would he do to her if she wouldn't tell him?

Her teeth were chattering with fear. She had to get to a safe place, somewhere that he couldn't hurt her.

But what if he was insane? What if he had a gun, and didn't care about who saw him?

Abby imagined screeching to a halt in front of a police station, running up the steps. Brian got out of his car. He had a gun, and he aimed it directly at her back.

It sounded like a sonic boom, and felt like a tank. The bullet hit her in her back, and the force of it slammed her face into the pavement. Brian walked towards her.

"I found Joyce," he said with a sneer. "I guess that means I don't need you anymore."

She was looking directly into his eyes as he pulled the trigger.

The sirens were what snapped Abby out of her daydream. She felt like fainting in relief when she noticed the police cruiser pulling up behind her. That was when she noticed that she was going almost a hundred miles an hour. Well, at least she was safe. That was worth a speeding ticket.

The officer didn't waste any time. "Ma'am, do you realize you were doing almost one hundred in a 55 zone?"

"Someone was chasing me," she said, trying to keep her composure.

"Mhmm. And where is this pursuer?"

Abby realized that Brian was no where to be seen. Had he gone up ahead? "I...I don't know."

"Yeah. I'm sure. License and registration, please."

Abby jammed the $250 ticket into her glove compartment without even thinking about it. She had more important things to worry about. What if Brian _was _waiting up ahead?

The cop obviously wasn't going to be much help; he didn't even believe her. Well, she would just have to drive slowly and watch her rearview mirror.

She saw the car again when she was halfway to the motel. 

Was it the same car? She couldn't be sure. But what if it was? What if he followed her to the motel, and killed her there?

_You don't know that he wants to kill you_, she reasoned with herself. But why else would he have followed her all this way?

So she drove. And drove. And drove. She finally lost the car after an hour's driving, but by then she was hopelessly lost.

That was when she noticed that the needle of the gas tank was on E.

_I'll stop at the next station,_ she decided, but as she drove on and on, and the gas meter beeped again and again, she didn't pass a single exit. 

Then, the moment she was dreading came. The car sputtered, coughed, and died. She knew there was no point in trying to restart it; it was out of gas. There wasn't another exit for miles; what was she going to do?

In the distance, the headlights of a car appeared on the road. Abby's heart began to pound. What if it was him?


	4. Rescue

Chapter 4

Abby climbed into the backseat of the car and locked all the doors. She didn't have any weapon, any way to protect herself. If he had a gun, he could break the windows and kill her, and no one would ever know.

"Carter!" Abby whispered his name. She wanted him to be here, to do something to save her from Brian. Why had she come out here by herself? Why hadn't she stayed at Susan's house? She would give anything to be there right now.

The car slowly pulled up behind her.

For a moment, just a moment, Abby imagined that Carter would get out of that car instead of Brian. She would run into his arms, apologize for being such a fool, and beg him to take her back to Chicago.

The car door opened.

Was there any point in trying to run? Wouldn't it be worse to be shot in the back? Or what if he didn't have a gun? Then it might be better to stay in the car.

A man approached the car.

Should she run? Stay? What if it was him? What if it wasn't?

A flashlight shined in the window.

"You need some help?"

Abby opened her eyes, which had been squeezed shut. A large man in overalls stood outside her car. Her body flooded with relief. It wasn't Brian! But what if it was his accomplice?

"I'm...I'm out of gas," she stammered, fear freezing her lips.

"I got me a gas can right here in the back a my pickup." When he noticed that Abby was making no move towards the door, he said, "That's right. I always teached my girls: if you're ever on the road alone, don't be opening the doors to no strange man. Nope!" He chuckled to himself. "I'll go get the gas can," he said, still laughing.

Abby never even thanked the man. As she watched him drive away, she was shocked to be alive. Numbly, she climbed into the driver's seat and pulled back onto the road.

_________________________________________________________________

By the time she got back to the motel, she was almost laughing at herself. How could she have thought that Brian followed her all the way to Virginia? It was crazy. Must be because she was sleep deprived.

As she unlocked the door to her motel room, she promised herself a nice, long bath. She walked towards the bathroom and noticed that something was wrong.

The door was cracked.

Had she left it cracked? Hadn't she closed it? She felt her heart beating in her chest. What if there was someone waiting for her in the bathroom?

In that split second, she knew that she should have closed the door-

Brain burst out, his eyes flaming. "Tell me were she is!" he yelled in her face.

His fist smashed into her jaw.

"I don't know, I don't-" Another punch silenced her. She fell to the ground, blood streaming from the cut in her face.

Why was she still protecting Joyce? Was Joyce's life more important that her own?

"You liar! Tell me where she is!" His foot slammed into her ribcage. She curled into a ball, trying to protect herself.

"TELL ME!" He moved towards her again, fists clenched.

"NO!" she screamed. Her eyes flew open. 

She was laying on the floor in her motel room. She was alone.

Grabbing the bedspread, she pulled herself up off the floor. The bathroom door was cracked, just as it had been when she came in. She touched her face, and felt the stitches Susan had put it yesterday.

Brian wasn't here.

What was wrong with her? Why did she keep reliving this? She couldn't do it any more. She didn't want to be alone in this.

Crawling over to the night table, she picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

______________________________________________________

"Think she'll call again?"

Carter shrugged. "I really don't know. She sounded really upset when I talked to her on the phone. I just wish I could see her, maybe then I could get her to talk about this. She can't keep everything bottled up this time, or it's all going to come spewing out."

Susan stood up from the couch. "It's midnight; I better go."

"Graveyard shift again?" he asked.

"Yeah, but at least I'm off tomorrow. Call me if you hear anything, okay?" Carter nodded his assent.

Susan had been gone five minutes when the phone rang. Carter picked it up immediately. "Hello?"

"Carter?"

He bolted upright in his seat. He could hear the fear it her voice. "Abby? What's wrong?"

"I keep thinking I see him, I keep having flashbacks. I can't- I can't stop thinking about it."

Carter wished he were there with her right now. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm in my motel room."

"Where?" Carter already had his pencil out, ready to scribble down the address.

"I...I don't know." Her voice had a desperate edge to it. Carter wondered, What had driven her to call him? And whatever it was, would she be okay until he could get to her?

"Abby, I'm gonna come, okay? I promise, everything's going to be okay. Just hang in there. You have to find the address. Call the front desk, get the address, then call me right back."

"Okay. I'll call right back." She hung up the phone before he could say anything else.

Carter waited anxiously for her to call back. After five minutes had passed, he knew something was wrong.

He pushed callback, but only got a busy signal. Could it really be taking her that long to get the address?

Finally, he looked at the caller ID. He was shocked when he saw the area code, and immediately realized that she hadn't called him from Chicago. She wasn't even in Illinois. So where was she?

Grabbing his cell phone, Carter dialed information. "Yes, I need to get an address for a phone number." As the woman rattled off the address, he prayed that he wouldn't be too late.


	5. Help

Chapter 5

Carter had been driving for more than an hour when it occurred to him to call the police.

He dialed them, and prayed that they wouldn't find a corpse in Abby's motel room.

When Carter got there, all was silent. He was surprised to see no sirens, no police tape, no news vans. Where was everyone?

Carter realized that he didn't know what room Abby was in. He had expected to be able to follow the trail of police cars.

But one car was enough to guide him. There, in the middle of ten empty parking spaces, was Abby's car. Which meant one of these rooms was Abby's.

Carter didn't have time to go door to door. "Abby!" he bellowed, jumping out of his car and racing towards the doors. "Abby!"

One of the doors opened.

"Carter!" Her face was bruised, her eyes were red, but other than that, she was okay.

He ran towards her, unable to believe that she was alive and well. " Abby!" he said, gathering her in his arms. "Are you alright? I was so worried about you!"

"I am now," she said, burying her face in his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears leaked out regardless.

"It's gonna be okay now," he promised her. "I'll make sure it is."

______________________________________________________________

She didn't want to get out of the car.

"C'mon, Abby, it's okay."

She didn't budge.

"Do you want to go to Susan's? Would you be more comfortable there? She doesn't get off for another hour, but I could take you over, if you want."

Abby shook her head. "No, it's okay, I'm...fine. Just give me a minute."

Carter did indeed give her a minute, but he spent the entire minute hovering outside the car.

Abby closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest. What was wrong with her? Why was she so afraid when she knew Brian wasn't here?

She was afraid of him and mad at him at the same time. What right did he have to make her feel this way? 

It didn't make any sense. He hadn't hurt her that badly. He had done much worse to Joyce, she knew that. She had a few bruises that would be gone within a week, and her nose would probably mend itself in a few weeks. So why did just the thought of what had happened fill her with unshakable fear?

"Abby? You ready to go?"

She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be back in Chicago, and she didn't want to be at Carter's house. Why had she called him in the first place? She needed time alone, time to sort out her feelings. She couldn't do that with Carter hovering over her every second of the day.

"Abby?"

"Actually, could you just take me home?" she said abruptly, as if she were continuing a conversation.

"What?" Carter asked, sure he had misheard her. Hadn't she just called him, desperate, afraid, begging him to come and help her? 

"I just...need some time alone. Time to sort everything out."

Carter paused. He wasn't sure how to handle this, but he knew that he couldn't leave her alone. She had been on the brink of hysteria when she called; things hadn't changed that much in a matter of hours.

Choosing his words carefully, he asked, "Well, don't you think it would be better if maybe you stayed here for a while, and we could talk about this?"

Abby didn't hesitate in shaking her head. Her moment of vulnerability had passed; Stonewall Abby was back. "No, I really just need some time alone. Could you take me home?"

"Abby, you were...really upset when you called me. Don't you think it would help if you talked about this, instead of just bottling it up inside?"

Now he was talking down to her, and it annoyed her. "No, Carter, I don't. Are you gonna take me home, or do I have to walk?"

Carter knew what was going on. He had seen it many times before. Abby had reached out to him in a moment of panic; now that the crisis was over, she retreated back into her protective shell. Well, this time he wasn't going to let her.

"Okay," Carter said, going over to the driver's seat, but he had no intention of driving. He placed the key in the ignition, then turned to face Abby. "You know, we both know what this is."

"Know what what is?" Abby asked blankly.

"What's happening to you. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder," he said his gaze unblinking.

"Thank you for the diagnosis, Doctor Carter. Now, if you don't mind taking me home-"

But Carter had just begun, "Occuring in victims of trauma, common symptoms include flashbacks to the traumatic event, inability to sleep, feelings of panic-"

"That's _enough,_ Carter," Abby said, tightlipped. "I went to med school too. I know what it is."

"But do you know that ignoring it won't make it go away?"

"You know what? I think I'll just take the El." Abby almost broke off the door handle it her eagerness to get out of her car. 

Carter was right behind her. "You know, running away isn't going to solve anything. Abby, _stop_!" he said, grabbing her arm, forcing her to come to a standstill. "You called me because you were scared, because you needed help." Abby's eyes dipped down, unable to meet him gaze. "But that's nothing to be ashamed of! We're all scared sometimes." He loosed his hold on her arm. "But Abby, I want to help you. You can't make this go away by yourself." 

Abby sighed wearily. "I don't want your help, Carter," she said, sounding tired.

"No, but you need it. Whether you want to admit it or not." He took Abby's hand in his. "Now c'mon, this doesn't have to be a therapy session! Let's go get something to eat, and we can come back to my place and just...talk. About whatever you want."

"You sure know how to get what you want," she said with a tone of resignation.

"It's what you want too," he told her. "You just don't know it yet." Then, in a lighter tone, he asked, "Want to order a pizza?"

"That's fine with me," Abby said, resigned to her fate. With his arm around her shoulders, the two of them walked towards his house.

"Carter?"

He turned toward her. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

A/N: And that, my friends, is where the story ends. Don't wanna be getting into fuzz or anything crazy like that. Yep, you'll just have to wonder how things went once they got in Carter's house... ~Taz


End file.
